The Cosmic War: The Battle of Dragon World
by Moonlit Memories
Summary: After the discovery of a strange child and her guardian, Mirai Trunks finds himself stuck in a war that has been going on since the beginning of time.Now he will have to choose:One life for an Entire planet,or an entire Planet for one Life...
1. Preface

_**Summary:**__ It has been two years since the defeat of the Andriods and Cell. Mirai Trunks and_

_his mother have rebuilt Capsule Corporations and now work to help the world recover the horrors it survived. However, the discovery of a strange child drags Trunks and his world into the path of an Ancient War that. With the help of a new ally, can Trunks protect his planet from the onslaught of war, or will he sacrifice it in the name of one, innocent child?_

_Find out in..._

_**The Battle of Dragon World**_

_A FanFiction by Moonlit Memories_

_A.K.A. C.C. Jusino_

**Prologue**

_Disclaimer: I don't own BSSM or DBZ characters or their histories. Don't sue, or I cry._

_Claimer: I own the bad guys and the plot line. Don't steal._

The room was black, cold, and damp. No light bled in from the entrance that laid at the far end of the square room. No window gave hint of escape. The wooden pole at her back was splintered and rough, but her skin was already numb from the pain and bloodloss. She was disoriented, no longer able to tell if she was still hanging upside down or standing right side up. Her feet were blue from lack of circulation. The leather rope was dug deep into her paling flesh, and kept her petite and mangle body suspended against the pole. The steady drip of what she knew to be her own blood, from her own tortured and naked body, was the only sound next to her raggid breath and the scrape of her finger tips against the smooth, cold floor.

How long had she hung there.

A day?

_No._

A Week?

_Possibly._

A Year?

_That still sounds far too short,_ she thought.

At least they still came to her every so often; they still questioned her. It was when they were gone that the delerium got the worst of her. It was then that their bloody, dead faces came to her, pointing their rotting fingers at her. It was when they threatened her the most.

At least when the that _man_ came in, they were real.

_How pitiful,_ she thought,_ the Messiah of Death afraid of the dead._

A new sound pierced the silence of the room. It raked at her ears. She would have plugged the sound out with the heel of her hands, but she wasn't too sure she had them any more. Instead, she hung there and looked expectantly in the drection of the only exit to her nightmare: a smooth wall as white as snow within the light, and as black as space within the dark.

It started as a thin sliver, and then grew into a blinding beam. Light washed over the blood stained floors and caused the roaches and rats to scatter. It bled away the wall she peered out, and made it thin into a sheer sheet that dangled from the cieling.

Her already swollen eyes squinted as the light seered her vision, but she forced her eyes to stay open. She forced them to stare at the hulking form of a man as he lumbered into the room followed by his soldiers on either side.

They learned weaks ago that she was still dangerous; she was still able to hurt their _precious_ master despite her bonds. It was why they took such precaustion, such care to protect _him_ when near her dangling body. It was somewhat of a comfort to her destraught mind.

His fingers, cool and smooth, gripped her jaw and confirmed to her that it was indeed shattered. Pain seered her flesh, and the sound of shifting bones reached her bleeding ears, but it passed quickly. Her eyes struggled to keep focus on the face; flawless, sculpted, and beautiful. His lips curved into a smile. His golden hair made him look like an angel within the bright light from above. It was all lies.

"Have you decided to speak?" He asked. His voice was soft, and it carressed her aching mind.

Despite his obvious beauty, which plagued her day after endless day, she spat the dried blood and mucus that flooded her mouth onto his face. Her dry and broken lips pressed into a thin line of determination.

"I don't think you understand," he stated softly, though clearly disgruntled by her actions. "This is the last time I will ask you to volunteer the information before we are forced to pry it from you brain your majesty. So, I will ask you one last time:

"Where is Neo-Queen Serenity's Daughter? Where is she hiding?"

"Fuck you!" she spat with a venom in her voice she thought died weeks earlier. "I will never betray the royal family, my friends! So kill me already! You will get nothing!"

Her voice rung loudly within the room. It bounced off the nearby walls and echoed out into the empty corridor. The determination, the loyality, bled from each syllable. She refused to be broken by this creature before her, or any for that matter.

He sighed, softly, and shook his head in disappointment.

"I don't understand," he muttered as he turned towards the door. "We've let you watch everyone you know die, watch countless of worlds crumble, an eternity of innocent lives murdered. And all because you refuse to tell me one, simple thing.

"You think me a selfish monster, I know. But truely, honestly, are the crystals, is one life, really worth it?"

"Yes," she muttered without hessitation. "Especially when that one life will be the one to destroy the likes of you, and yours."

"I see. Well, I'm sure you'll think differently once the Ek-ler gets through with you."

With that said he exited the room, and plunged her once more into darkness. She heard the locks slide into place as the entranced melded back into a seamless wall, and softly sighed to herself. Then she heard it.

Metal slid against metal.

A small compartment, she pictured, opened and shut somewhere to her right. Something heavy slammed onto the iron floor. Then there was tapping of boney feet, which echoed into the room. She felt the first of many small claws dig into her skin. She couldn't see the creatures, but she felt the blood they drew. She heard the hiss of their mandibles and felt the poison from their bite.

Panic bagan to override her senses. The poison began to burn beneath her flesh.

_Akin to fire ants,_ she momentarily thought.

They were so much worse though.

The fire grew, and she found herself thrashing against the pole, hoping to rid her body of the alien insect. They continued their assault upon her, picking at her flesh, careless of her attempts.

The first of many screams started to rise in her throat. Her split lips spread open to let free her cry, but allowed the small bugs access into her mouth instead, filling it, filling her throat. Slowly they widdled their way into her body, setting it afire and muting her pained cries of help. Their little feet dug into her tongue, her gums, her throat. Ripped at her vocal cords. They filled her lungs with their poison, then slowly, they began to devour her from the inside out. Piece, by little, piece, and she felt it. She felt every little rip, and every little tear.

Stuck in her pain, the only image that came to her mind was of one little girl, whom last she saw, had just turned three. Her small, royal gown was soaked in blood as she raced across the ruined street. She screamed out to her, her little arms out stretched, not to leave her on this strange planet. A planet so green, so quiet. She would be safe there, she knew. Yes, she would be safe in the Dragon World, the moon would make sure of it. Safe, far away from the nightmares of here.

"Dragon World," he muttered as he watched the girl from his place beyond the twelve inch thick glass that seperated the viewing room from her cage.

A smile spread across his face.

_Dragon World._

_To Be Continued..._

_**Preview of Chapter One:**_

_"Do you think she's from some foreign land to the north?" Trunks asked without a glance to his mother._

_Bulma shrugged slightly before she sunk into the couch, next to him. She placed a hand upon his knee and gave it a small squeeze. She said truthfully:_

_"I honestly don't know of any people, on this planet with as strange a marking as that girl's."_

_"It could just be a birth mark," Trunks offered._

_"A yellow birth mark so flawlessly shaped?" Bulma critisized. "I doubt that much."_

_"So what? You think she's some lost alien child?"_

_"Well she wouldn't be the first to land here..."_

**Dear Reader,**

_Okay, so once again I've started a new story. I needed something easier_

_to concentrate on, something familiar. I'm very used to writing DBZ/ SM crossovers and_

_so decided this would give me the creative boost I'd need. My goal for this story? Well, to _

_make it a good one and finish it, of course. _

_As for what I have in mind for the storyline? _

_Well, for those of you who look for a romantic pairing I'm sorry to say that I have not _

_made a decision upon that. I would like to make a pairing, but then everyone gets _

_sooo hooked up on who's getting with who the story gets lost somewhere in _

_the process. For now, I may hint of romance, but it is not the focus. The story is. _

_If something happens, then something happens. I'll let the story write itself, and it'll only do_

_that if you give it some feed back. After all I'm a very comment motivated person. _

_How can I be motivated to write more, if I don't know if people like or don't like what I write. _

_Ya know? So please review. _

_Always & Forever! _

_-Moonlit Memories_

_P.S. Chapter One is Already written, I just have to proof read it, and edit it. So. _

_A little reviewing might just give me the incentive to do those things a little faster. -wink wink-_


	2. Chapter One

**The Battle for Dragon World**

_A Fanfiction by Moonlit Memories_

_A.K.A. C.C. Jusino_

**Chapter One:**

_**Survivors**_

_Disclaimer Applies_

_Claimer Applies_

The wind rustled by his ears, pulled at his clothes. It even bit at his skin, but he reveled in it. He twirled and dipped, rose and fell with the currents of the wind as he zipped over small town.

The world below him was spread out in a vast expanse of remains and nature. The once perfect, stone streets, wooden homes, and few, concrete buildings were no more than shadows of what they had once been. They were covered in greenery now: bushes and ferns, trees and grass. Nature poked out of every crack, and every window. Even the few skeletal remains held a romantic hum of nature as the weeds over took them in a process far greater than even himself.

Trunks Briefs slowed his wingless flight and let gravity pull him back to earth. His feet were soundless as the met the grass covered path. His hair gently lulled left and right around the battle hard features of his face.

It was nearly a year since the Androids and Cell were demolished by his own hands. A quiet year of peace and prosperity. West City slowly came into its old luster as the time passed and, with the help of Capsule Corporations, several new hospitals were opened, as well as, homes and orphanages. Slowly the world's populace returned, and though the shadow of the traumas still lingered in places like these, the people no longer had reason to hide or stay awake at night. That included himself.

Of course, that did not mean that all was well. Since the attack Trunks took it upon himself to patrol the major Cities and find survivors in the small ones. He took the ones he could find back to to his home where his mother and a small team of volunteers provided them with new homes and jobs within the city. This current free-flying trip was just one of many Trunks made within the week.

Trunks looked to the sky and noted the suns position and the weather. It seemed that rain was on the horizon, he could almost smell it. As he reminded himself to let his mother know of such conditions, he began his slow search of the small, abandoned town. He searched the basements, what homes still stood, and any hole and ditch he could find. He listened for sound of whispers or breathing. He searched out the energy.

It took nearly an hour before he felt anything at all. It was no more then a small hump in his mental gage, but it was something. Thus, he followed as instinct deemed. He weaved his way between two brick, house frames, and towards the growing tree line just beyond the town. There a small, worn path was present. It disappeared into the thickness of the forest. He followed it.

His foot falls began to sound heavy against the grassy ground; they echoed within his body.

The hump slowly became a medium bump the further he went. It was not long before it was a descent, by normal standards, spike. It came from a large tree that stood tall and motionless amongst several other smaller ones. At its base the roots rose upwards, and tore up from the earth to form a large burrow within the trees bowels. From it came the softest of whimpers.

Trunks started towards the burrow when, from his left, a rock flew at him. He could have caught it, but instead he let it bounce off his skull. As he turned to look at where it came from, a voice shouted from the safety of a nearby tree.

"You get away from there!" a boy, perhaps no older than thirteen, shouted. "Or you'll be sorry!"

"Yeah! You'll be sorry!" a second voice chimed from the same place, this one a girl's, possibly younger.

"Hey," Trunks offered with a gentle smile ( something he learned to master over the last few months), "I'm not hear to cause any trouble."

"If that's so, then get lost!" the boy replied.

The two children finally stepped into view. Both were laden down with rocks and branches, and both looked half starved and covered in dirt. The boy was tall, and a bit skinny, with stringy, black hair, and the dark complexion that was common for the region. The girl, a bit lighter in color (though not much), stood just behind him. Her button nose scrunched in defiance, and her equally stringy, black hair pulled into a loose braid that fell to her tail bone.

That is when he heard it. From within the burrow, no from just to the right of him, the softest giggle. Immediately the boy looked very angry and immediately started to shout.

"No Rosy!" the little girl shouted, "You're supposed to stay hidden!"

Rosy was a small girl, no older than three, that stared up at him from the burrow. A grubby finger was popped into her mouth, and the rather expensive white dress she wore was laced with gold, and covered in dirt and , what appeared to be, blood stains. Bright pink hair adorned her head and was pulled into two small cones with a curly tail extending out, only a few inches, from them. Her eyes were large and crimson, and upon her brow was the oddest birth mark he head ever seen. A pale yellow crescent mood laying on its arch. Milky, white skin beneath all the grime was what finished her distraught, but royal, appearance.

"Hello," Trunks offered the child that looked up at him with a smile. He knelt down to the ground and smiled. "Aren't you a cute little thing."

The girl smiled back at him which made her face glow. Slowly, she leaned toward hims, as if fascinated by his hair before she suddenly sneezed: into his face.

The siblings, Trunks determined, that stayed a safe distance away gasped in surprise. They were sure he was upset at the new spittle that dotted his face. Instead, to their surprise, he only laughed and wiped his face clean with the sleeve of his purple jacket. The little girl laughed as well before she jumped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck and tug at his hair.

His hands scooped her up at her nonverbal request and he returned to his full height. He peered at the two other children. With a smile he pointed to the sky.

"So who wants a nice bed to sleep in tonight?" he offered as he jutted his thumb towards the sky.

The two children glanced at each other before a simultaneous decision was made. They were not stupid after all. They were hungry, alone, and very much in need of some security. A security that their youngest friend decided to receive from the strange, lavender-haired stranger before them.

"We do!" the two shouted.

They dropped their weapons, and ran to the man They introduced themselves as he lifted them easily ( one in his free arm, and the other on his back). Then the quartet headed back towards Capsule Corporations. The mode of transportation was the biggest conversational piece during the entire trip.

"Don't you think it's a little odd?" Bulma briefs inquired some four hours later as she folded another small shirt, "those kids I mean."

As usual, when children were involved, Bulma fretted over the three new guests her son brought home. She worried over their appearances, health, and their skinny bodies. She did a full physical on all three before she sat them down and nearly shoved a saiyan's meal before them.

The two older children, which were clothed in some of Trunks old clothes, were down right frightened of the blue-hair genius, while the youngest only giggled in delight as she continuously reached for the woman's hair and repeated the worlds _Am-ee Chan._

Trunks assumed it was something to do with the color.

The three children, now seated at the table, finished the last of what they could eat. Well, two of the three. The babe was still at it, and this quirked the demi-saiyan's curiosity a hint.

He seated himself at the table, while his mother cleaned off the prep counter. He smiled at the two older children: Dreven and Lyla Fringe.

"So, how long were you three out there by yourselves?" He inquired.

"A few months," Dreven answered. "Our mother passed away from sickness and everyone else was either gone or dead."

"Since then we've been on our own," Lyla added as she scrapped the last bit of steak into her mouth.

"Must have been hard," Trunks offered sympathetically.

"Not really," Lyla replied. "We found berries in the forest, and there was still some canned goods in some of the old houses that weren't bad."

"And what about Rosy, she's not your little sister right?"

"Oh no,"Lyla offered, "we don't know who she is. We found her a couple of weeks ago crying in the middle of our town. She was a real mess. All covered in blood and stuff."

"Blood?" Bulma's paused. "Covered in it?"

The scientist new the substance she could not scrub from the youngest child's dress was possibly just that, but she hoped not. It was not a comfortable thought to think that someone so young was exposed to such a sight.

"Yeah," Dreven confirmed. "Before then we never saw her."

"So she isn't from your town at all?" Trunks asked as he eyed the pink-haired girl. She appeared to be drowning in a large t-shirt that once belonged to him when he was four.

"Nope, doesn't even speak our language," Lyla pointed out. "She keeps speaking all this gibberish and then slips into that baby talk of hers. It's really annoying if you ask me."

Lyla scrunched her nose at the thought and then added: "And she cries a lot at night, always points at the sky and keeps saying '_getsu_' ".

"So why do you call her Rosy, " Bulma asked as the picked up the empty plates.

"Well look at her, she's always so, pink."

At this Bulma and Trunks chuckled.

Afterwards the children helped place the dishes in the sink and Trunks took up the cleaning of them. It was at this time Bulma explained to the children that she would take them to the orphanage in town where they would be taken care of, and be given to a new family who would treat them as their own children.

Immediately Dreven disliked the idea, his sister soon followed. Rosy, however, ignored everything as she happily tugged and played with Bulma's hair, oblivious to the world around her. An hour later, the children were tucked into the guest bedroom (one of four, not including the ones actually in the Corporations business floors).

Bulma returned to the living room where her son now sat and scratched his lavender hair. His head was lulled back and his brows were furrowed in thought. Concentration lines creased his face, which left the twenty-three year old with a far more serious look Bulma disliked.

"Do you think she's just from some foreign land to the north?" Trunks asked without a glance to his mother.

Bulma shrugged slightly before she too sunk onto the couch next to him. She placed a hand upon his knee and gave it a small squeeze. She then said truthfully:

"I honestly don't know of any people anywhere on this planet with as strange a marking as that girl's."

"It could just be a birth mark," Trunks said.

"A yellow birth mark, so flawlessly shaped?" Bulma criticized. "I doubt that much."

"So what? You think she's some lost, alien child?"

"Well she wouldn't be the first," Bulma pointed out. A fond memory of a certain Saiyan Hero popped into her mind, as did her son's. "Though I doubt she got dropped on her head and forgot her plan to destroy the planet."

The two chuckled softly. Bulma then sighed and rested her head upon her son's shoulder. Her own brows furrowed which made her worry lines even deeper upon her face.

"However, if she is an Alien child, someone from her planet is bound to come for her," she pointed out.

"Do you think it's a good idea to take her to the orphanage then?"

"I think, I should confirm her alien origin before we decide anything."

"Right."

Down the hall, within the closed bedroom with her two companions, she listened. Listened to the soft whispers of these strange people language. Restless, she climbed from the large bed,where she was squeezed between the brother and sister, and landed with a thump on the floor. Her bare feet started across the floor to the large window just out of her reach. She stepped into the dark patch of the floor where light should have bled through, and felt the first pinch of familiar heart ache as she looked at the star lit sky. No great big shinning white orb hung in the sky to sooth her little mind. Nothing of the sort to remind her of her mother and home, and no great crystal castle reflecting its light. All she had was the large crystal left to her little hands, which dangled from a small chain, beneath the very large shirt.

It was not long before her piercing wail riped into the night. Her cry filled the room, and then the hall, and as per usual Lyla groaned and Dreven sighed. They would get no sleep this night, even in the safety of a great house, in a great bed, under great sheets.

The next morning came all to soon for the three children who were woken at a painful 6:30 a.m. They sat for breakfast after their old clothes were returned to them, repaired and refreshed. They groggily ate, though still full from their meal last night, and made no attempt at conversation. After breakfast they washed up and gathered what meager belongings they were allowed to keep from their visit to the Briefs's Home. Lyla and Dreven piled into the back of Bulma's small car and were gone soon after.

Trunks stood on the front porch with Rosy stood atop his shoulders. She waved with one of her pudgy hands, while the other tangled itself into his hair to keep her balance, until neither could see the vehicle anymore. Then, with a small sigh, she slumped until her little chin rested on his head.

Trunks's blue eyes rolled up to view the child the best he could. When he saw her little depressed face, one that held much more understanding than any three year old should have, he could not help but feel a little sad himself. He pulled her down and held her out before him at arm's reach.

"Don't be so sad," he said, "they are going to be just fine, and so are you Rosy."

"_Usagi_," she responded. Her frown grew a little more. "_Watashi-no namae-wa Usagi."_

Trunks tilted his head in confusion. She used that phrase often yesterday whenever someone called her Rosy. He did not understand what she meant by it however. Whatever it was, he could not help but feel as though he was being corrected on something. Alas, he did not speak her language and could only shrug at her helplessly.

"I wish I could understand you, really I do."

He placed her back onto her feet and held the front door open for her. Inside he moved to the couch where he flipped on the television and plopped onto it. Rosy followed in suit, though she had a little more trouble with the climbing onto the couch bit. Soon she was snuggled up to his side, thumb in mouth, and eyes closed. It was clear she was not a morning person, nor would be any time in the future.

Alas, in the heavens above, aboard and space ship that was still a light year away, someone felt the small child's loneliness. Felt it with all its power to the core, for she too felt the same loneliness as it ate at her soul, as the memories ate at her mind.

The burning never faded though the bugs were evicted from her body. Instead it remained beneath her flesh and gnawed at her bones. Her body, thankfully, became numb to the pain. Instead, its mere presence, was no more than a pinprick against the burning rage within her soul. It was a flame that grew with every sickening minute she spent in that dark room. Ever since they told her the news of their trickery.

Suddenly light filled the room, encompassed it, but she did not close her eyes. She glared at the lithe body that entered the room. The very site of _him_ fueled her anger even more. His charming smile, his twinkling blue eyes, his perfect face. All of it, she wanted to rip it all open with her bare hands and watch his blood stain these floors as hers did, and so many others.

_Traitor. _It was the only thought that could describe him accurately.

"I see you've recovered well enough," he said. He stood only a few feet from her.

When she did not reply he continued.

"My navigator thinks we can arrive at this _Dragon World_ within the year, possibly sooner. Then it's all a matter of finding her, which I'm sure will not be too difficult."

"If you even breath on her I will kill you," she hissed.

"Oh my," he knelt to be eye level with her, "that is a mighty big threat coming from a half starved, helpless, little girl."

"I may be half starved, and I maybe little," she growled, the power tingled behind her eyes, "but I am hardly helpless."

"Is that so?"

It was not the smartest move in the world for no matter how angry she was, and how much she denied her body's condition, it did have drastic effects on her ability to manipulate her powers, powers that took years upon years for her even to tap into.

The energy blast her mind created could have knocked off the man's despicable head. However, her vision was obscured by the swelling of her face. This made her aim off rather drastically, and her body's protest to the strain she put on in the process made her focus anything but exceptional. The end result was a large hole nearly three feet to the left of where he stood, and a very exhausted and spent her. Not to mention the fact that _he_ was none to happy to know she harbored such powers.

"I see you still need some breaking done," he growled.

The two guards that now stood within the room were given specific instruction in a language she could not grasp. Once _he_ was out of the room, the pain began. She was cut down from the pole. Then beat soon after, by there clubs and greasy fists. When she could no longer move, they abused and used her in other ways, which they only did when she really pissed their 'oh-so-great' leader off. Afterwards, however, they did not bind her back up. Instead they called in some assistance. They injected her with a strange medicine that kept her conscious, and then they displayed the spikes, the hammers.

It was clear that her punishment and torture had only just begun.

_To Be Continued..._

_**Preview Of Chapter Two:**_

_Suddenly the girl was off like a bolt. She ran fast than any child should have, straight for the trees. All the while screaming in pure and utter fear that sent a cold chill worse than that of the Asteroid's down his body, and made his blood boil with angry._

_"Rosy!" Bulma was already calling after the girl, chasing her small foot print into the grassy tree line._

_Trunks followed as well, abandoning their picnic site. When they found her, some five minutes later, she was curled into a tight little ball crying into her knees beneath a uprooted tree. A single word continued to mutter from her lips repeatedly._

"_Youma. Youma..."_

_**Dear Readers,**_

_Okay, so first off. Miguelnuva: Thanks for the vote on who the romance revolves around._

_However, like I said before, romance is not the focus of this story. If one happens_

_to develop, I'll be sure to keep your vote in mind._

_Okay, so onto other news. I didn't really like this chapter all too much, more or less the last bit. I don't know. Something about it just irked me. Ah well. Here it is anyway. Hope you enjoy!_


	3. Chapter Two

**The Battle for Dragon World**

_A Fanfiction by Moonlit Memories_

_A.K.A. C.C. Stallings_

**Chapter Two:**

_**Hope**_

_Disclaimer Applies_

_Claimer Applies_

The days of study turned into weeks, and then turned into months. The research spread even into a year, but nothing came up on the strange bundle that landed in the laps of the Briefs family. Despite all the work put into learning more about this child's alien origin (which was confirmed by a DNA test), she was becoming more and more part of the Briefs's Family. Bulma treated her as if she were the daughter she never had, and Trunks treated her as the little sister he always wanted (though technically it was a brother he wanted, but beggars can't be choosers).

They slowly taught her the language which she grasped fairly fast, and she no longer cried at night as she had every night of the first few months. She still looked longingly at the sky with her large crimson eyes, but did no more than that. Often they would find her just sitting there at night, watching and waiting for something. What, they did not know and she could not tell just yet. They lived on though.

They did however learned how old she was, and her day of birth. It was evident when she threw a wild and almost spoiled tantrum continuously shouting the words "presents" and "Cake" over and over making Trunks regret ever teaching her the word. They also learned that Bulma's blue colored hair reminded her of someone she once knew who, no doubt, had the same colored locks. However, now a year from the day she was brought into their lives the Briefs family took their first outing together, Rosy included.

It was a trip to the beach, a delight the young girl enjoyed immensely. On a blanket spread out beneath the shades of a few palm trees, Bulma sat and watched her two children play. Trunks allowed the small Rosy to sit upon his shoulders where she continuously grabbed anything and everything in reach to put into his hair. This time it was a red Starfish. He playfully splashed her each time which pulled a sharp laugh and squeal from the girl.

_He'll make a good father one day_, Bulma thought with a soft smile upon her lips.

She applied the last bit of sun screen to her arms, the woman laid back and closed her eyes. No sooner had she, however, did a sudden chill spread over her body. Confusion swept her mind and slowly she opened her eyes to peer at the sky. A gasp seized in her throat.

"Trunks," Bulma managed out as she slowly climbed to her feet. Her eyes did not move from the sight of the black spot against the blue sky.

"You felt it too mom?" Trunks inquired as he stared at the same black object. The news had said a large asteroid had been spotted a couple hundred, thousand miles away from their planet, and that it was supposed to pass by sometime this day, but this was no asteroid. Sure by his Saiya-jin eyes the slight details he could make out appeared asteroid like, but a strange sensation of emptiness accompanied the sight.

Rosy, who he set down some time before leaving the water to come to his mother's side, now clung to his leg. Her little body was shaking against him, and her crimson eyes were large bowls in her head. When he looked down at her and lowered to pick her up, she suddenly wailed. It was such a startling sound that Trunks nearly jumped.

Suddenly the girl was off like a bolt. She ran fast than any child should have, straight for the trees. All the while screaming in pure and utter fear that sent a cold chill worse than that of the Asteroid's down his body, and made his blood boil with angry.

"Rosy!" Bulma was already calling after the girl, chasing her small foot print into the grassy tree line.

Trunks followed as well, abandoning their picnic site. When they found her, some five minutes later, she was curled into a tight little ball crying into her knees beneath a uprooted tree. A single word continued to mutter from her lips repeatedly.

"_Youma. Youma..."_

Bulma and Trunks were at a loss for what to do, and so did the only thing they could. They gathered the girl up, packed up their things, and returned to Capsule Corporations. Once there Bulma launched a full scale Research expedition on the strange asteroid. And using the space shuttle that was recently repaired, Trunks and a few other scientist were suited up to check out the thing for themselves.

By the next morning the research crew was ready to leave, which specific instructions from Bulma. A strictly recon mission it was.

"A few Photo's, a sample or two, and any readings you can get," Bulma clarified. "Something about that floating rock isn't right and I want to know why."

"Aye aye ma'am!" the Three other crew members stated with a military salute to the woman who held the strangely quiet child.

"And Trunks," Bulma pointedly stated, "if anything goes wrong, you come right back home you understand."

"Don't worry Mom," Trunks stated with a kiss to her cheek and one to Rosy's. "We'll be back before you know it."

With that said. the group loaded into the ship, locked themselves down, and readied themselves for take off. And with a proper countdown from within the metal shell, the large rocket took to the air leaving Bulma Briefs and her charge, Rosy, in their wake.

A good sixteen hours later the ship would be upon the floating rock. The crew back in their seats and observing with silent awe. The rock that was supposed to be an asteroid was anything but. Perhaps it was the rock like texture of the surface, or maybe it's jagged shape, but it was no asteroid, Trunks knew that much.

"Let me out," he told the pilot as he unbuckled himself from his seat. he started for the exit. "I'm going to take a closer look."

"Are you sure?" the pilot asked. "Miss. Briefs only needs a few photo's, nothing up close you know.

"Yeah, I know, " Trunks commanded before slipping into the port that blocked him from the rest of the crew. "I just want to get a closer look thought."

After a moment of hesitation the pilot did just as he was told. The air was removed from the little room and the exit hatch was open, and with a might push Trunks was out and flying forward.

"Just remember, give us a heads up if anything goes wrong," the pilot sounded over the intercom as he watched the saiya-jin drifted to the fore front of the small shuttle.

It was awkward, maneuvering in a such a large suit, and in such a weightless atmosphere, but he managed.

Trunks directed his floating body towards the large, and strange vessel. He reached it's strange surface, and began to scale its body, and would for nearly twenty minutes before an opening appeared, as if beckoning him in.

He took the invitation.

Once into the room, the large entrance slammed mutely shut behind him, and gravity was one more restored to his body. What was once the wall before him was now an opening, similar to veil, or so it seemed. A sheer veil that looked into a white corridor filled with suited aliens, pointing their weapons straight at him. He thought to attack immediately, but held himself when a figure stepped forward from the mass. A man, who looked normal enough, extended his arms in welcome.

"_Ohayo,_" he said. The language was familiar, but from where.

"What?" Trunks inquired.

For a moment the man looked confused, and then their was a hum. Only then did Trunks notice the small machine that was attached to the man's ear, just barely hidden behind long golden locks. He then smiled once more and spoke again:

"I'm sorry, you must forgive me. Good morning, and welcome aboard my ship."

"Uh, yeah I guess," Trunks started as he looked skeptically at the man.

He was tall, a few inches taller than Trunks himself, and slim. His face was square, masculine, and his eyes a crystal blue. His skin was unearthly pale however, and his voice, though soft, was cold. Empty. As for the energy reading, the saiya-jin couldn't read a thing. This is what worried him the most.

"Please, please come, take off your helm. The oxygen is very safe I assure you." the man offered with a gesture of his hand. "My name is Af'rin Desno."

Trunks stared at the man for a long moment before relenting.

"Trunks Briefs," He stepped forward, through the cloth like veil and pulled the glass bowl from his head. The veil shimmered behind him and became solid once more. Then, as if nothing at all were wrong, the crew lowered their weapons and scattered to carry on with their own business. He followed the man through the twisting corridor and into a large expanse; the bridge , trunks noted.

Here computers blipped and screens decorated screens. Creatures of all shapes and sizes worked at the holographic keys with their gloved limbs, muttering in all different sorts of languages beyond Trunks own mental grasp. Beyond all the screens, and beyond all the holograms, was Dragon World. A floating green and blue marble against the black sheet of space.

" Mr. Briefs, You're planet is quite beautiful," the man complimented as he looked to Trunks.

"Yes, it is," Trunks agreed coolly as he looked to the man. "What is it you want with Dragon World, or are you merely passing?"

"Passing," The man offered before pausing, "And not. "

"And Not?"

"Well, you see," he started his face turning grave, " I am searching for someone. My daughter. Our planet was attacked a year ago, and we had to send her away to safety in a space shuttle by herself. She was supposed to only go to the neighboring planet, but she over shot it, and now we have no clue where she is."

"I see," Trunks replied.

"Perhaps you've seen her?" The man inquired. He then fished about his large black robes before pulling out a slab of crystal in which a holographic image of a very familiar face was shown.

It was Rosy, decked out in a beautiful white gown and flowers in her hair. With her were several other unfamiliar faces of women he had never seen. One, however, did have some resemblance to his mother he'd admit.

Trunks eyed the image carefully, mentally debating on it, and then shook his head. "No I haven't, I'm sorry. There aren't too many kids with hair that color where I live, I'd remember a cute face like that no doubt."

"I see."

"Look, Af'rin, if you don't mind, my ship is waiting for me, " Trunks began jutting his thumb towards the space beyond the ship.

"Of course, " The man replied as he tucked the glass back into the confines of his robe. "But I'm afraid I cannot do that."

"Excuse me?"

"Sleep," the man's voice hummed into his mind within seconds. Trunks did not know what was happening to him until the world blurred behind his eyes, and the floor slipped from beneath him.

"You are far too strong a creature to simply let wander back home," the man muttered as he watched the now slumbering man. "Take him to the dungeon, dispatch of him and let her watch."

"Of course!" Two green soldiers replied before grabbing a limb and hauling the dead weight of the saiya-jin off.

She hung in muted pain from her place against the wooden pole. No longer supported by ropes as she had been a week earlier, but by large spikes driven through the bone and flesh of her ankles. Through the Achilles tendon which insured them that she would not run. Her hands were now bound behind the poles width, which stretched her chest cavity to its max, exposing the ribs that lay between what was left of her naked breast. The scares riddled her body in menacing patterns that _he_ said were works of art against her pale, now blue flesh.

Her violet eyes were now pinned open by strange contraptions _his_ scientist fashioned for her _enjoyment_. Her head was held into place by a metal clamp screwed into the wood of her pole. She faced the black wall, which she knew was not, and in the darkness she was left. Left until they brought a new victim to torture her mind with. This was how they rain things when she stopped responding to the physical pain. They attacked her mind, and filled it the grotesque images of innocent creatures from every planet they passed along the way. Some she even met, knew, in her own journey to find a safe heaven for her beloved charge. They brought them to the room beyond the wall, turned on the light, made her watch, made her listen.

Every scream, every plea, to every crack of every bone.

This time it was man, a human looking man. This was what frightened her the most since they had never brought a human like victim into that room. It made her worried, it made her fear. It was because that meant they were close to her, to where she left _her._

The man's build was well, which was easy to see since they always stripped their victims. Whereas in her youth she would have blushed at the mere sight of a cute boy, now she couldn't even muster a sigh. His hair was lavender and long, bound back with a single tie. His eyes were closed and his face was lax, and he looked tall. Far taller than herself, if she could remember how tall she was, but shorter than her torturer. It was hard to tell though since he was strapped to that torture device of a chair.

The two soldier had strapped him to the chair that decorated the red room he occupied. It wasn't until the soldiers left and the 'administrator', as she called him, entered that the man began to stir from whatever spell _he_ had placed upon him. He opened his eyes, lifted his groggy head, and met the horrific sight of her illuminated body before his glass window.

She felt her soul shatter once more. For she knew they showed him her living corpse to instill fear, to make his death all that more sweet.

However, he seemed more appalled than scared. That was because he was _that_ type. The type of being that looked upon such ugly things in hatred, in horror, in anger. The brave type that protected all things beautiful, or would if they could. He was a warrior. A warrior who was going to die a slow and painful death for no reason, but for some monster's sick amusement. And she was forced to watch, as he was forced to stare at her grotesque form.

The man finally pulled his gaze from her own, a luxury he was granted, and glared at his captor. His voice, unmuted by the wall, filled the hallow of her cell. The language spoken was unlike anything she had heard. It was rough, but flowed, brash but almost melodious. Though she knew not what he said, she knew it to be a question several asked.

"What are you doing?" or "Why are you doing this?"

The reply was always the same. The 'administrator' looked at him, smiled, and returned to the table of torturous tools it brought within the room. It would hold up a jagged blue knife, a poker, and a few spiked needles. It would then proceed to examine the larger items on the bottom shelf of it's table. There lay the large saw like tool that glowed red and buzzed iriitably loud, and the snippers that turned green when blood touched them. Acid no doubt.

Unlike the other captives, this man looked on without fear and seemed to only grow angrier by the moment. His star seed nearly beamed out from his body with such a brilliance it made her want to yell at him, tell him to bite his tongue and swallow it for a quick and painless death. But her voice was long lost, and all that escaped her blood dried lips were wheezes and gasps.

Even when she began to wiggle on the pole, as much as she could muster at least, she barely made a sound. Only the sound of squishing muscles within the gabbing holes of her ankles filled the room, and drowned out her wheezing. Even so, his gaze turned back to her, freezing her to the pole, ceasing her movements. His lips moved, mouthing something to her in silence, but she could not understand it.

Fear gripped her when she saw the first tool of torture raised. He did not look at it though, only her. She began to wiggle again, wheeze and whine a bit louder. She tried to form the words for him to do himself in first, but they did not form. And as the first needle, one that would send a burning hot fire through his blood, crashed down upon him. She could only screech pitifully against the pole as she had so many times before.

Again, her voice was drowned out. This time it was by another sound, a foreign sound. Another's squeaking surprise. The needle that should have been buried into his flesh was broken, and his flesh unpierced. But was that possible? Another needle was put to use, and it resulted in the same end: mere pieces on the red floor.

A strange feeling began to creep into her soul at this, a feeling she had all but forgotten. It started off as a small painful pinprick in her tired heart, and painfully began to spread. It forced her weak heart to beat a little fast, to make her breath come in a little quicker. When he pulled his arm free of the iron bonds that should have held him to his seat, she knew. That perhaps, just perhaps, she could dare to hope.

A silent cry of joy escaped her throat, and she reveled in the sounds of agony that followed. Not from the victim, but from the one who was to make him a victim. Then the lights went dark once more, the show was over, the sounds were gone.

Trunks moved quickly from the strange room, rubbing the slight tingle that irritated the area in which the strange being tried to prick him. He ignored it however, and began down the hall, adorned in the creatures robes. His face was hidden, unnoticed. He was upset, and was annoyed, and he was very confused. He didn't understand what was going on, why it was happening, or if even anything was happening at all. All he knew was he was mad, and he wanted out, but first, he wanted answers.

That's when he saw them. Two burly guards pacing a space of wall. He approached them, hood pulled far over his head. Of course the two guards peered at him for only a moment. They then garbled something in a strange tongue before stepping aside. The wall behind them thinned into a veil as every other door seemed to in this ship.

Beyond the veil was a large room, a room which immediately brightened from some unseen light from over head. It basked the room white floors which made the blood red stains upon it sharp and vivid. What was even more vivid, which before had been but a ghostly shadow beyond a glass pane, was the wooden pole and the mangled creature that hung naked from it.

Trunks stepped further into the room, the entrance vanishing behind him. He approached the wooden pole, taking note of the near black hands bound inhumanly at its middle, bending the limbs attached to it in an odd angle. He stopped a mere two feet from the pole, taking in the very human fingers and bruised wrists. The elbows though bent oddly, were human elbows nonetheless.

He furthered his exploration and rounded the pole so that his back was now to the wall the pole faced. He could now get a good look at the creature, starting from top to bottom.

Trunks first noted the pale blue feet, elongated and bruised from the hooks that pinned them to the wood. A large gaping hole gave proof to gravity at work against the flesh and bone that tried to hold her feet to the body. Blood no longer flowed from these wounds. The bones were visible beneath the thin and meatless flesh, which made the creatures knees look like two small basketballs stretched between two thin poles. Poles that gave way to the dips and bumps of a very female pelvis. Hip bones jutted out from the flesh, almost visible through the scares and open wounds that did not heal. The stomach was a pit that made her ribs thrust out and the flesh that should have been supple breast were no more then just, flesh. The bones in her ribs were not smooth, revealing several irregularities in what should have been a smooth bone structure. Broken ribs that healed wrong, if at all. It was the same along the collar bone, leaving only the string of a neck that held her head in place. Or perhaps it was the metal clamp that held her head to her body, and the metal clamps around her sunken violet eyes that kept her skin on her face. And the stringy long hair? It was perhaps the healthiest thing on this skeleton's body, though anything but clean. It fell in black waves onto the blood stained floor, where it knotted into a frizzy nest of dried blood and other bodily fluids. Fluid in which she reeked.

Trunks ignored the fact s he was staring at him, and ignored the wheezing of the air pressing past her weak lungs. Instead he rounded the pole, back to where her hands were bound. There, with care not to break her all too fragile wrists, he broke the bind. Immediately the freed limbs swung towards the ground, helpless, lifeless.

He then rounded to the front of the pole, knelt, and gripped at the metal band which held her head. With little effort he pulled the band free. Splinters flew out from the pole, easily slicing at the skin on her face but she made no sound, only stared at him. Something he fixed next as he carefully removed the clamps from her face. Scars and dents were left in its wake.

Trunks then slipped his arm beneath her head, as though she were an infant incapable of supporting the weight, and lifted her form partially. With his free hand, he gripped the first hook and ripped it free, taking a bit of her flesh with it. He winced, but she still made no sound. He did the same for the other hook. Once she was free , he cradled her body, marveling at how it felt as light as the air itself.

He settled her partly upon the floor and removed the robe he had taken. He cloaked her naked body with it and offered her a small smile, though he was finding it harder and harder to look at her by the moment. It was hard to imagine that perhaps she looked normal at one point.

She did not smile back though. He could not blame her.

He pulled the hood over her head, shielding her large eyes from the light, it could not have been good for them, and stood. Cradling her in one arm he started for the door which appeared as he kneelt.

No sooner did the battle begin...

_To Be Continued..._

_**Chapter Three Preview:**_

"_Let them go," Af'rin growled out as he wiped the blood from his mouth. "With any luck, they'll lead us right to the little princess..."_

_**Dear Readers,**_

_Sorry for the delay in update and all. Military kind of makes it hard to be creative. _

_Alas, here it is. Traditionally this was supposed to be two separate chapters_

_but I combined them since I felt I made you all wait long enough so owed you at least this much._

_I hope you enjoyed, and I'll try and update soon._


	4. Chapter Three

**The Battle for Dragon World**

_A Fanfiction by Moonlit Memories_

_A.K.A. C.C. Stallings_

**Chapter Three:**

_**Let Them Go...**_

_Disclaimer Applies_

_Claimer Applies_

Trunks moved silently down the hall. In his wake were the corpses of the two guards that had allowed him entry into the torture chamber. Fragile remnants of the woman he had found in said chamber was mounted on his back. He adjusted, uncomfortably, the trousers he took off the smaller of the two guards, and frowned a little. The legs were far too long for him.

He double checked the knots of the robe that covered the girl, and kept her strapped to his back, before her peered around the corner.

With one arm adding extra support to her form, the other formed the smallest of energy balls within his hand. Something akin to a gasp gurgled from the girls throat at the sight, but he paid it no mind and instead focused on the guards moving along the hall.

"Hold on if you can," Trunks instructed.

It was useless, but he hoped she'd get the idea at least.

Soon the Saiya-jin was dashing into the hallway. The gun fire that ensued thundered up and down the corridors, as did the flashes of light from the energy forced out of the man's hand. It didn't take much, but maneuvering with a limp body on his back didn't make it easy either. At every twist and turn the girl seemed to slip a little more. Despite this she made no complaints, or couldn't. Trunks hadn't quite figured it out yet.

Alas, the disturbance soon sounded in the form of a blaring alarm that rang out throughout the ship. The floor vibrated as soldiers mounted for the attack. In the havoc, Trunks slipped into every room, or crevice, he could find to avoid detection.

Throughout the entire experience, she remained silent, observing as best she could through her distorted eyes. Occasionally she managed to lift her hand, limply point left, right, or down a hall way, leading him through the maze he could have gotten completely lost in. These directions led them into the bowels of the ship, quite literally. It smelt just like bowels to Trunks who could do nothing but scrunch his nose at the smell.

"I really do hope you know where you are leading us," Trunks grumbled out as he stepped over a particularly leaky pipe that trailed along the floor of the ship.

Ten minutes of creeping through pipes and sewage lines that led to large containment crates, they'd reach a door. A normal door that is. No taller than himself, nor wider than. It was made of steal, and was rusted around the edges giving protest to its age. Trunks tried the knob only to find the thing lock. He applied a little more pressure before it was popped opened with a loud snap.

As he stepped in, a series of lights lit, creating a line along the low steal ceiling. Shelves upon shelves were also lit. Each were filled with strange objects and possessions. None ever matched another in likeness or language. The only similarity was the simple label beneath each written in several languages for easy translation for the less language-savvy crew members: Planet Vasna, Planet Jati, Planet Balis. The names went on and on. It was then that it dawned on the saiya-jin that these were confiscated items, no trophies, from victims. And there were millions of of them.

A gentle hum and tug from his passenger drew his attention away from the shelves and towards the back of the large room where the light was the brightest. A few minutes later they stood before the ten pedestals lit bright from beneath. They were plated in gold and silver, and carved in different but elegant patterns. At their base, in bold lettering, were the labels for them: Pluto, Saturn, Neptune, Uranus, Venus, Jupiter, Mars, Mercury, Earth, and finally, the largest pedestal read The Moon. Four of said pedestals actually held items, suspended by science (or was it magic?).

The four items glittered and shimmered, sparkled even, with an ethereal pulse about them. If Trunks didn't know better, they even felt as if they had their own Ki, if that was possible. They were no more than simple gems though, of different colors: aqua, navy blue, purple, and red.

Another hum caused Trunks to shift his gaze a little at the hand that drifted slowly forward, fingers outstretched, and reaching for the precious gems. His brow quirked skeptically of course.

"All this way for some pretty rocks?" He asked incredulously to himself as he shifted his gaze back to the rocks.

"Oh, those aren't just some pretty rocks," a new voice joined in.

Af'rin Desno stood there, along with twenty other odd looking soldiers. A smug smile adorned his pale face and dangerous blue eyes narrowed upon them. How had they not heard there approach Trunks would never know.

"Hand over the Saturian boy," the man continued as his hands folded neatly before him, "and we shall let you go, unharmed, back to your ship."

_Saturian? _Trunks thought in confusion until he realized he was talking about the girl. Of course the association was immediately made to the properly label Pedestal.

"Trust me boy, she is a very dangerous creature that one," he continued, "could destroy your entire planet with a wave of her arm."

"Well as you can see, and must possibly know," Trunks started with a frown stepping backwards and towards said pedestals, "as you can see, her arms aren't exactly in working condition, so I doubt that'll be a problem."

Af'rin was silent for a moment as he eyed the girl and then the boy that held her, a boy who began to carefully squat and lower her onto the cold floor at the foot of the pedestals. Then, the sudden snap of fingers echoed through the stale air, soon filling the room with the sounds of gun fire.

She watched, with amazement brimming her drooping eyes. She watched as he moved with the inhuman grace of a lethal dancer. He avoided the fires with speed alone, and was soon upon the gun men, if you could call them that. The sounds of bones crushing filled the air like music to her ears, with a chorus of wails and cries following in a beautiful crescendo of some deadly symphony. Even as the monsters tried to over power him physical, they stood no chance. One was sent soaring to the left, another crushed into the ground, and yet another sent head first into an attacking gunmen. And here she was, with a front row seat, watching like some perverted woman in the front row seat of a naughty midnight movie. She couldn't tare her eyes away.

Soon enough, all that was left, was Af'rin and her hero. The two stood off, with the echoing sounds of more guards coming. There was no doubt in her mind that he could beat Af'rin to a pulp, but the question now seemed to be, would he? It didn't matter however, not anymore.

Goals returning to her exhausted minded, the Saturian turned her gaze to the glittering gems above her. With the thin weight of her body, she pressed against the heavy pedestal as hard as she could muster. It tipped slightly at once, and then, slowly, suddenly, to the left it tilted a little more of its own accord. Soon enough it was in a full topple, her body weakly tumbling with it, as it clanked loudly against the stand next to it, and it into the one next to it, and so on.

Immediately Af'rin's gaze shifted to the remnants of the warrior he had been torturing for the past year and a half as she made her futile attempt as collecting the gems. A sudden anger over whelmed him, and he immediately started forward, shouting out at her to stop. His words were cut short however, as a fist sent him flying backwards and into the slightly ajar entrance way.

Trunks scrunched his nose in distaste, debating on killing the man now and saving himself the trouble later. The thought was cut short by the wheeze of the weak body some feet away. She was half sprawled over the now fallen pedestals trying to collect the rolling gems by weakly slapping her dead hands upon the cold steel floor, and pulling the gems to her. It did not seem to be working however, and caused her to scrunched her face in disdain and anger. The look only caused the its within her flesh to deepened grotesquely, enough so that the Saiya-jin could only watch for a second before rushing to help.

"Don't know what you want these for, but they must be important, " he muttered, more to himself than his new burden.

Trunks scooped up the four stones and shoved them into the pockets of the borrowed trousers. Soon after he was scooping the creature, as he thought of her now, into his arms and began back towards the exit. He carried her over Af'rin's stirring body and through the door where the sounds of approaching feet came in surround sound. It didn't stop him though as he once again followed the bony finger that pointed the way.

Along the way his fist met many faces of varying shapes, sizes, and colors. Each one seeming to fall out of sight and out of mind as they made their escape to what Trunks soon found to be towards the emergency escape pods.

As the Saiya-jin was gently placing his cargo within the meager device, a brave gunman helped a disgruntled, and unbalance Af'rin to his feet.

"They are stealing an escape ship sir. All of our troops that were sent after, are defeated," the creature gurgled out in a tongue that sounded like nothing more than boiling water. "Should we shoot it down once it takes flight?"

"Let them go," Af'rin growled out as he wiped the blood from his mouth. A slow smirk forming upon his lips despite the card dealt. "With any luck, they'll lead us right to the little princess..."

As the small space shuttle shot away from the massive craft and into the blackness of space, Trunks could not help but regret not killing that _thing_. He knew he would pay for the lack of judgment later, but at the moment his priorities changed. Momentarily his gaze shifted to the living corpse half hazardously strapped in beside him as her dull eyes stared at the green planet they approached.

His gaze tore from the figure and began to focus on the planet as well, that is until he saw the wreckage of his mother craft. Bits of metal now, floating with the rest of the matter in space. Even the corpses seemed timelessly suspended there. His mother was not going to like this at all. They were her best researchers after all...

"_Usagi... "_ It was barely a whisper Trunks had heard, but heard nonetheless. The single word had formed upon the broken lips of the creature next to him, almost like a prayer, and for a moment he could only think:

_Where have I heard that before..._

_**To Be Continued...**  
_

_**Dear Readers,** _

_Sorry it took so long for the update, yet again. Like I said before, Military sucks it outta me. I'm sorry there isn't a preview for the next chapter yet, and I'm sorry I couldn't do more with this one like I wanted. Sometimes it just gets so hard to write, ya know? Oh!_

_I'd like to thank **miguelnuva**, by the way, whose read every chapter and reviewed thus far_

_despite my erratic updating habits. Thank you so much for the dedication and the patience(I'll make sure to read your fanfic and review the first chance I get)!_

_As for **Ancient Death**: I'm glade you enjoyed the goriness of my story! I'll try to keep it up. _

_And for anyone who has read, but not review. Thanks for reading! _


	5. Chapter Four

**The Battle for Dragon World**

_A Fanfiction by Moonlit Memories_

_A.K.A. C.C. Stallings_

**Chapter Four:**

_**Reflections**_

_Disclaimer Applies_

_Claimer Applies_

Bulma paced. She moved back and forth, from the living room to the dining room. She sat and stood, fiddled and nibbled. However, no matter what she did, she could not stop the worry eating away at her heart. It was nearly six hours passed the check in time for the crew, and still she had no signal from them. Not even a radar bleep on the screen she constantly checked on every ten minutes or so. It was like the ship had disappeared, like her son had disappeared.

Bulma stood, once more, from her chair at her radar screen and exited the small room. She moved down the hall, and up the flight of stairs leading to the main floor of her slowly growing home. From there she passed the living room where Rosy was still perched at the window awaiting Trunks's return. The child, like herself, refused to sleep even a little. She would not bother her. Instead,she moved to make herself some coffee in the adjacent kitchen.

It was there that she stood, starring at the dark brown liquid, when Rosy's high pitched squeal reached her ear.

She was in the living room within seconds where she was immediately greeted by the child's frantic tugging towards the front door. There she hauled the woman outside and pointed to the distant sky.

There, in the distance, was the largest shooting star Bulma had ever seen. On closer inspection, however, she knew that that wasn't it. No, it was something falling from the sky. A large, object. A meteor? No. Rosy seemed to know though.

As if, she could sense something Bulma could not.

"Trunks-kun," Rosy stated with a large smile. "Back!"

In the distance, in that free falling object, Trunks made quick to assess an appropriate escape plan for his companion and himself for the rough landing ahead. Apparently the ship worked perfectly in space, but had no air control for gravity filled areas, such as his home planet. A planet that was now rushing quickly towards them.

"I guess it'd be kind of pointless to tell you to hold on," Trunks muttered, more to himself than his company.

He moved easily from the control panel to the exit of the small shuttle. From there he opened it, causing a vortex of wind the fill the small cabin. For a moment the girl looked as if she would blow away with the flow of the wind, but she did not much to Trunks surprise. So, with that worry gone, he moved and quickly swept the light load into his arms. Within seconds, they were out of the crashing craft and suspended some twenty or so miles above the trees that littered the ground.

Trunks watched for moment as the craft left a trail of destruction within the trees before feeling a twinge of guilt for it. However, little could be done at the moment, so he settled for glancing down at his wide eyed passenger.

She, of course, remained silent, but her sunken eyes conveyed her bewildered surprise. He could only smile, as best he could, down at her. Though she could not understand him, he spoke anyway, hoping his voice added some comfort.

"Pretty cool huh?" he started as he began moving through the air, "My mom doesn't like being taken for the ride so much..."

Bulma stood from her seat at her front door, as did Rosy, as a small dot became visible in the distance. They had watched, together, the falling ship disappear in the distance and had waited patiently for something else to happen. They were rewarded, of course.

As the dot grew larger Bulma's worry simmered to a whisper. She could soon make out the lavender hair that waved In the wind, and the relieved grin on her son's face. As soon as he landed she was dashing out to meet him, as was Rosy.

"Trunks!" she greeted with a wide smile of relief on her face. "What happened to you!? I've been trying to get a hold of her for hours! Rosy and I haven't been able to sleep a wink!"

"Sorry," Trunk apologized. "Things, got a little difficult."

Trunks soon indicated the very still and very silent bundle in his arms. He then continued:

"That ship we saw: it's bad news Mom."

Bulma looked to the being he held and knitted her brows in worried confusion. The creature was covered in a large brown cloak, completely, save for a dangling hand. A pale and scared, it almost looked like a skeleton's hand. It would have been in the end, as well, if not for the thin layer of skin that covered it.

"Come on, inside, down stairs," Bulma instructed.

Trunks agreed and followed the woman inside as instructed. All the while he explained his short trip, and all that came with it. And as the two entered the home, Rosy stood just outside the door. Her face pale, her crimson eyes wide. She could say nothing, do nothing, but stare at the familiar essence Trunks carried inside with a sense of dread and fear.

She could not muster the strength to shiver as the man laid her on the cold steel table. She could not move her jaw to form the questions she wanted to ask as the older, blue hair woman bustled about. She could only let her eyes fall shut to block out the harsh light that hung above her. Even so, her eye lids were so thin now, they did little to provide her eyes comfort.

Her eyes opened once more as she felt a warm hand graze her forehead. She peered up at the calculating but concerned gaze of the blue haired woman. She reminded her greatly of Mercury, of Ami. However, the voice was all wrong, and the hair was maybe a shade too light? She couldn't remember anymore.

A sharp prick in her arm cut her thoughts short, and left her to follow the woman as she moved to talk to the man. It was as the two stood side by side that she noted the similarities. They were related, she concluded.

It was not long before the man was exiting the room, leaving her to the woman's care. When the woman returned to her side she gave a gentle smile and spoke to her. Perhaps to comfort her, as the man had during her interesting transport here. The woman's voice was indeed, comforting. For the first time, in years perhaps, she felt warm. Safe. And let the feeling wash over her.

She closed her eyes she let the woman's voice sooth her mind. Slowly, and surely, Hotaru Tomoe drifted to sleep.

Bulma watched as the creature fell into her medicine induced sleep. She bit her lip slightly and stood back for a moment. She had figured the creature, as she could only describe her at the moment, needed sleep, rest. She did not want that disturbed by her medical diagnosis of the body, but now that this was done, she was nervous.

As a scientist, and a medical researcher, Bulma had scene many things. Mangled bodies and bloody injuries were normal, especially in these times. Even the every now and then case of starvation. However, she had never seen anything that had gone this far. She was terrified of what she may see beneath the rough, brown cloak that covered the body before her.

Despite this, she steeled herself for what she was going to see. After, she moved back to the table's side and disrobed the unconscious figure. It took all her will not to turn her head from the site, or flee the room. She did, though, allow her eyes to shut for only a second before she returned to the task at hand.

With a clip board nearby, and a pen at hand, Bulma began to go through the process of annotating every cut, bruise, and mole she found while administrating the appropriate remedies to fix them the best she could.. She would continue to do so for the next four hours.

Trunks looked at the infirmary door for a long moment before he finally sighed and turned from it. He moved up the stairs as he decided it would be best to get a shower and put on a change of clothes. He moved through the house towards his room, until he heard the gentle sound of hushed tears.

Brows furrowed in confusion and he moved towards the sound coming from the cracked door adjacent to his bedroom: Rosy's room. Quietly he approached peeking through the crack door. There he could see Rosy's shivering back as she tried to quiet sobs. She was knelt at the window, head pressed against the wall. The image, disturbed him.

He pushed the door open slightly and helped himself into the room. She probably heard him, but she made no move to greet him. Instead she seemed to tense herself even more so.

"Rosy," Trunks started as he knelt behind her, placing his much larger hand upon her frail shoulder. He easily pulled her from the wall to face him, "Hey, what's wrong?"

The child shook her head furiously, her red cheeks puffing up even more. She could not find the right words to explain to him her problems, so she only cried more. It cause demi saiya-jin's worry to grow even more. He did not like seeing the girl so distressed.

So, Trunks did the only thing he could and pulled her close to him. His arms seemed to engulf the small girl, but she welcomed the comfort they provided, and clung to him. Until she slept from exhaustion. It was then that he picked her up, and gently placed her into her bed. He watched her sleeping form for a long moment, momentarily eying the crescent birthmark upon her brow and was reminded of how he had first found the girl. He smiled at the fond memory before he sighed and stood. With that, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

He never noticed the glowing gems within his pocket.

* * *

The world faded in slowly and she could feel the rocketing shuttle beneath Hotaru's booted feet. She sat in an uncomfortable seat that rattled more than her feet. To her right was a steel wall, to her left was the small aisle and then another seat.

It was occupied by the slender figure, clad in a red and maroon sailor fuku. Her long black hair was pulled over her shoulder, and her chin rested upon the heel of her white gloved hand. Her long slender legs were crossed causing the red heeled foot of her left left to bounce up and down where it was suspended. All along her cream skin were cuts and scars, bruises and blood stains. Despite this, she looked as regal as any high priestess, or Queen should have.

In front of her was Another seat where a pink pigtail was barely visible around the side of the ship. The small form shivered now and then, and shifted weight, but no words left her mouth. The white and gold hem of her dress was still stained in fresh blood and her very broken Luna-P laid just below her dangling feet.

In front of her sat the pilot of the strange ship. Her sandy brown hair was short, but not too short. She could not see it, but she new she wore a similar fuku to the woman across from her, save it would be sporting the colors of navy blue and yellow. She two would be sporting similar injuries, save she also bore a horribly bloody lip. A tooth was no doubt missing as well, but no one would point it out.

Next to her, a bloody gloved hand, gently rested upon the her arm. It belong to yet another woman. Her face was visible around the back of the chair since it was turned towards the pilot with worry. The cheek visible was bloody with a deep gash, and her visible leg was no better looking. Nor her aqua colored fuku.

Then, there was herself. She looked down and saw the blood stained thighs beneath the dark, almost black, purple skirt. Her own white gloves were stain red, and her arms covered in bruises and scraps. Her gaze then shifted to the pilot's window.

Beyond the window was the slowly detailing view of green forest. The ship hummed and rattled as it slowly made it's landing on the foreign landscape. When it finally settled the pilot released the control and sat back. She took in a deep breath and turned her gaze to the woman at her side. She smiled a weak, bloody smile, and the latter returned it with her own.

"Come on," the one, the Martian Queen, stated firmly. She was already on her feet, favoring her right leg. "We don't have much time."

So Hotaru stood, and nodded. She moved with her own slight gimp and stirred the sleeping child from whatever nightmare plagued her. She looked up at her and worry glazed her wide eyes.

"Come on Usa," Hotaru spoke.

The girl groggily sat forward and hopped off the seat. Hotaru soon grasped her smaller hand in her own, and began tugging her to the lowering exit ramp. She could feel her throat tighten into a hard lump as the girl turned to retrieve her beloved Luna-P, but the Saturian gave her no leave.

"We don't have time Usa," she chided.

She stopped just at the ramp as the other woman made a careful exit. After a few minutes Hotaru called out, just loud enough, "Is it clear Mars?"

"Yeah," came the reply after a few minutes, "All clear."

With that confirmation Hotaru half tugged and half carried the child from the ship and onto the empty street. On either side were desolate buildings covered in over growth, and the long passed scent of death lingered in the air. She was especially sensitive to the essence, as was little Usagi. The girl's small hand tightened.

She did not wait for the girl to catch her bearings as she followed after the older Soldier.

_Soldier, _Hotaru pondered the word for a moment. It was strange how their titles had changed. Before the establishment of Crystal Tokyo, they had been Warriors. Ancient Warriors. Now, now they were Soldiers and Generals in a great war. Was there any difference? Yes, very much so. There was so much more death involved now then their time in the twentieth century. Much like how it had been during the great battle in the Silver Millennium. How funny how the past caught up to them.

"This should be safe enough," the General of Mars stated. She stood in the center of what may have been the towns square. Her keen, chocolate eyes surveyed the area and any threat that was poised there.

"Whatever happened to this place has long since passed," she started," the princess should be safe here until we return for her."

"I don't like it," Hotaru found herself saying quietly.

"Neither do I," the woman agreed, "but we don't have much of a choice. It's far too dangerous to take her back with us."

"Yes, I know but-"

"It was Usagi's and Mamoru's decision, " the woman cut in, her voice like steel. "This is what they wanted, what she wanted. I trust her judgment, and for whatever reason, she knew this place would be safe, for a time at least, for Usa."

Hotaru wanted to argue, but nodded nonetheless. The woman was right in the end. It had been the King and Queens specific request to bring their one and only child here to this desolate planet. Here, where they thought she would be the safest. Who was she to question their reasons? Only a General, like the others, following orders.

The Saturian watched the Martian as she knelt before the still confused child. Usa had no idea what her parents had planned for her. Now, she would find out, and Hotaru's heart would break.

"Usa," the woman started, replacing her General's face with that of the caring teenager she had once been, "you remember all the things we taught you right? About surviving, right?"

The child half nodded in confusion. It had been bare basics they had taught her only weeks before. About hiding, scavenging, and all that. She was only a child though, how much could she retain from all that they drilled into her?

"About finding food, and staying out of sight, right?"

Again the child nodded.

"Good girl," the woman replied. "Now, you're going have to use all that stuff, okay?"

"Why?" the child finally asked, her voice still shaky from sleep.

"Because we're leaving Usa," Hotaru finally broke in. She too knelt before the girl now, still holding her hand in her own. "And we won't be here to help you."

"Leaving? But Mommy said I can't stay by myself."

"I know," she replied. "But we can't take you with us, it's too dangerous."

"I don't wanna stay here."

"Usa," Mars started, "don't be difficult. This is for you own good, do you understand?"

"No!" Usa shouted with puffed cheeks. "I don't want to stay! I want to go with you and Taru-chan!"

"Usa!" Hotaru snapped, "Stop being spoiled! There isn't time for it. We;re leaving and you need to stay here, and that's final."

It was the first time Hotaru had raised her voice to the girl. It surprised her, leaving a look of sheer and utter confusion on the child's face. Had any of the other Soldiers yelled at her before, Hotaru wondered for a second. Had even her mother or father?

"Let's go," Mars stated to her as she stood, "We don't have a lot of time."

Hotaru nodded and stood as well, releasing Usa's Hand. The two would soon pass the girl on either side, and move back towards the shuttle that was already prepped for take off. However, Hotaru did not get far as she felt the rough tug at her skit.

She peered behind her at the large, stubborn crimson eyes of her Queen's daughter. She did the unthinkable then, knowing there was no time for coddling. It had passed a long time ago.

"Let go Usa," she said, slowly, deliberately.

"No! I'm going-"

The resounding clap that echoed through the air was far louder than Hotaru had expected it to be. What was more disturbing was the image of the girl as she hit the ground, her cheek red with the imprint of a hand. Hotaru's palm stung with regret.

"We don't need you getting in the way Usagi."

The words had come of their own, and her body moved on its own. He booted feet swiveled and she rejoined Mars and dashed back to the ship. When she made it to the ramp, the ship was already starting to lift.

"I was going to say it was a bit over bored dear," the aqua haired woman stated from her seat next to the pilot, "but, it doesn't seem to have worked."

Hotaru confused gaze shifted from the woman to the closing ramp. There, running down the broken road, tripping over her long, blood stained gown, was little Usagi trying to catch them. Trying to be with them. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and her little voice was screaming out their names, each one.

She screamed for Rei, and promised she would try harder to learn charms. She cried out for Michiru and Haruka, and promised she would be better in music class. She shouted for Hotaru, she begged and pleaded, as she crashed to the ground, that she would not get in the way. But for all her shouting and tears, they could not grant her wish. They could not, no matter how their hearts broke, bring her with them.

The ramp to the shuttle closed, and Usagi was left in the cloud of dust they left as her only company.

* * *

Hotaru awoke reluctantly as the memory faded into bright lights and soft, feathery sheets. Weekly her head managed to lull to the side, causing the fluffy pillow beneath her head to puff up before her face. The room was bathed in light it seemed to the broken soldier, despite the blinds that were pulled down and shut. There was a small, wooden, vanity adjacent to the bed she occupied. A tall vase with flowers was perched at the upper left corner, to the side of the large mirror that decorated it. It reflected the white walls of the room, and the bed she laid upon. She could easily see the tall pole next to her bed with a strange box that peeper every now and then. A plastic bag of liquid hung above it, and a clear tube extended from it's bottom. It dangled and curled around itself for a moment, before rising back up and disappearing beneath the thick white sheet that covered her.

It took her a long moment to find the correct name for it, but she did: I.V.

"Oh! You're awake!" a feminine voice greeted.

Hotaru's eyes shifted to peer at the familiar blue haired woman. For a moment she could not remember where she had seen her, in fact she had thought she was merely a dream. However, here she was. The woman that, oh yes! The woman that spoke soft words to her before she let sleep come over her.

"Well, you've been out for quite some time," she continued. "Almost half a week! I almost thought I put too much medicine in your IV!"

Hotaru remained silent as the woman continued to speak. She buzzed about the room, tidying up what ever she could find, before moving to the bed side to check the IV. She jotted things down on the clip board she held before she smiled.

"Well, since you're awake what do you say to trying a real bath, hmm? I mean sponge baths can only do so much right?"

The woman disappeared for only a second before she returned, pushing a wheel chair into the room. She then moved to the bed and pulled back the covers revealing the white hospital gown that adorned Hotaru's body.

With practice ease she gently helped the girl up and into the wheel chair. It was relatively easy due to the lack of weight. It was as the woman began to, more or less, carry her to the chair that Hotaru's eyes caught the full reflection of herself in the mirror. The first image of herself she had seen since her capture:

The image was shattering, like staring at the incarnation of death itself. Hotaru was disgusted with it, horribly sickened.

**To Be Continued...**

_**Dear Readers,** _

_So sorry for not updating sooner. PCSing makes it hard to really updated anything these days._

_However we're finally settled in though. So hopefully updates will be more frequent._

_Sorry for the mistakes in this chapter, I know there are probably a few. I honestly just_

_wanted to get this chapter out though. It's been playing around my head for a while now,_

_just like chapter 5 has been. Hopefully you enjoyed it though, thanks! Now for review responses!_

_**Miguelnuva:** Thanks again for your review! You always seem to know just what to say XD_

_**Taeniaea:** Thanks for the review, and don't worry too much about Hotaru. She's a tough cookie I think._

_**The Last Z Fighter:** Thank you so much for the review! I'm glad I've kept the characters, for the most part, to the original personalities. Or at least I tried. And I won't lie about the plot, I had no idea where I was going with it when I wrote the preface XD_

_**ills:** Thanks so much for your reviews on chapters 1 and 2, I hope you enjoyed 3 and 4 just as much._


	6. Chapter Five

**The Battle for Dragon World**

_A Fanfiction by Moonlit Memories_

_A.K.A. C.C. Stallings_

**Chapter Five:**

_Disclaimer Applies_

_Claimer Applies_

Two weeks since the strange girl had awoken from her comatose slumber.

Two weeks since Rosy had refused to leave her room for anything but the necessities.

Two weeks since Trunks had been placed on "Care Taker Duties".

Two very, very long weeks.

He could still remember her exact words:

"_This is a very important project Trunks. Those gems you found may be the key to finding out that ship's purpose," Bulma instructed while gathering things from her lab. "Not to mention the reconfiguration of the Recovery Tank. I mean, sure it works swell when dealing with Saiya-jin's, not…Saturians, whatever that is. So I'm going to be very busy. I'm going to need you to run things while I'm working, okay?"_

"_Okay," he had replied with confusion._

"_That includes taking care of our less than capable guest," Bulma added._

"_W-what?"_

"_You can't expect Rosy to do it, can you?"_

"_Well no," he started, but was effectively cut off._

"_She's starting to eat solid foods, but you need to make sure it's still soft enough," Bulma began, "and you have to bathe her too, Rosy can help with that if need be. Check her vital every night, and update her progress chart. Don't leave her alone too long either, she's in a very fragile state and the last thing we need is an accidental death on our hands."_

Now, here he was standing outside the strange girl's door (that's right, Bulma had clarified that the girl was pretty much human, save for a few DNA differences, very much similar to Rosy's in fact) uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck. It had become somewhat of a ritual over the last few weeks, this process of steeling one's self. Every evening, he came to the door, about the same time, and waited for a period of about five minutes before he knocked and let himself in. It was bath time, and it always took a little more mental readiness than any of his other tasks that involved the girl. Strangely it had nothing to do with the grotesqueness of the girl's appearance, but rather the anger that naturally set in whenever he saw her. Just the thought of any living person doing something so horrible to someone else made him want to go back and finish the job!

And that help from Rosy? Well it never came. The child, while he often found her lingering outside of the room, never dared to step even a foot inside it. Thankfully, however, the process was becoming easier due to the girls rapidly recovering strength: she could sit in the tub now without being held up!

Trunks lifted his hand knocked. He waited for a period of ten seconds before entering the room. As every evening, he found the strange girl lying in the bed, with an unopened book in her lap that his mother placed there whenever she woke her up in the morning. She had left it hoping it would help familiarize their guest with their world, and yet she never touched it.

She never spoke a word to him, and rarely looked at him during his visits. More often than not she turned her head away. Every time, he felt guilty for being the one to have to do this job. It did her no good, nor did it help him keep a better image of the creature in his mind.

"Bath time!" Trunks announced despite the depressing atmosphere the room was encompassed in.

The girl did not so much as flinch at his overly cheerful voice. It was no surprise. Grabbing up the wheel chair he moved to the bed side. He grabbed up the book and placed it aside. It was one of Rosy's picture books. Not that it mattered. She still could not move her hands, but when your tendons were torn and never healed as they should have, it was to be expected.

"After your bath, I'll get you your dinner, okay?" Trunks said. The silence of the room, of the girl, was nerve racking.

Pulling back the covers Trunks more, or less, moved her to the chair and as always he found himself surprised by her lack of weight. Even with the food she was fed she did not even weigh more than 90 pounds. As always though, he did his best not to mention it, or her appearance which reminded him more of an old man than a young girl, in his absentminded ramblings.

"I'll be right back okay, we're going to take a trip after your bath," Trunks offered, "and I'm going to need to pack up some of Rosy's things. So don't go anywhere…"

No reply, as usual.

Hotaru closed her sunken eyes for a moment as she listened to the man's foots steps leave the room. A few moments later she opened them back up to resume staring at the dead image before her. As per usual her current care taker had placed the wheel chair in such a fashion that she was forced to stare at the vanity mirror across the room; forced to look at that reflected filth that was her body. Unlike every other time though, he didn't wheel her away. No, he left her there with nothing else to do, but stare back at it.

* * *

"Rosy," Trunks called as he knocked gently on the bedroom door. He peaked into the room partially.

Rosy sat on the edge of her bed, a back pack on the floor beneath her dangling feet. The solemn expression she had worn since the arrival of their guest was still painted on her face and made her seem far older than just four. It was a painful sight for him to see, especially when he became so attached to the child's smile.

"I'm about to give our guest her bath," he stated softly, as if afraid that anything louder would shatter her. "We're going to be leaving for the other lab after that. Did you pack everything?"

The other lab was a small branch located on the other side of West City, and currently contained the regeneration tank that his mother had spent every waking night working on. She finally had a break through and wanted to try it out for the first time. If things went well, she could possibly restore this Saturian back to full health. Oh how he hoped.

"Hai," came the soft reply.

Trunk's brows furrowed a little more and slowly he moved into the room. He squatted down before her and rested his elbows on bent knees. His blue eyes met her crimson ones only to find them rimmed with tears. His eye brows knitted in concern.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" he finally asked. He tried before, but was always met with a stubborn shake of her head. He did not expect anything different tonight. "Does it have something to do with that girl?"

Rosy stared at him for a long moment in silence. Trunks was about to give up, as he usually did, when finally, she spoke.

"Hai." Rosy dropped her gaze to the sandals on her petite feet. "I. Scared."

"Scared? Whatever for?"

"She hurt," Rosy tried and the paused, trying to find the words in that would fit what she wanted to explain. "She hurted because me."

Trunks looked at the frustrated and tearful expression of the little girl for a long moment, before suddenly it clicked. "Rosy do you know that girl?" She nodded. "Are you from the same place?" She nodded again.

"She bringed me here." Rosy lifted her hand, instinctively clutching the crystal on the necklace she wore.

Trunks never thought much on the large gem she wore constantly, and was often caught staring at. However, the sudden images of ten pedestals bathed in light flashed in his mind. His gaze shifted to the birthmark that decorated the child's brow, and slowly he tilted his head to the side. His eyes slowly widened as he stared at the golden crescent at this new angle and made the connection with the large pedestal he had seen that day.

"The moon," he muttered absently.

Rosy's eyes snapped to him instantly.

Seconds later, the sound of shattering glass filled the hall and both Rosy and Trunks snapped their gaze to the doorway of her room.

_**To be continued…**_

_**Dear Readers:**_

_Over a year since my last update! And with not so much as an even descent one! I'm so sorry! Trust me it's not an intentional neglect, but life has been quite a bit hectic I'm afraid. In any case, I expect to update more often, especially once I move and all. My goal is to update a chapter, of each of my stories, a month. Starting with this one as you can see, and regardless of chapter length (but hopefully longer than this one). Wish my luck!_


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